HAWMC
Day
25
Third
Person
Post:
Kat
and
Sophia
Kat and Sophia
After enjoying a whole day of privacy, Kat was told she was getting a new roommate. She hoped this roommate would be friendlier than her previous roommate. In the two months she’d been in the hospital, she’d yet to find a roommate with whom she’d connected. But Sophia (name has been changed to protect her privacy) was different.
Kat heard Sophia before she even saw her, because Sophia was loud! As she was being wheeled into the room, Sophia was yelling at the nurses and fussing about her things. She kept telling the nurses that she’d be checking out in the morning because she did not belong there!
Kat rolled her eyes and thought to herself, “here we go.”
However, Kat had always been friendly to her roommates. Regardless of whether they reciprocated. She waited until her roommate was settled in. Kat raised her voice and said a friendly hello to her roommate, introduced herself and wished her a goodnight. To her surprise, her roommate, who had been so hostile towards the nurses, was quite friendly! Once Kat had broken the ice, her roommate talked and talked, until Kat fell asleep!
The next morning, Kat got up to go to physical therapy and decided to introduce herself face-to-face. She walked over to her roommate’s side of the room and said a hello through the curtain. Her roommate asked her to pull open the curtain so that they could greet each other.
Kat pulled open the curtain.
Sophia looked at Kat and exclaimed ” Oh my! You are much younger than I thought you would be! And pretty! And so tiny! Don’t they feed you here?"
Kat smiled back at Sophia and pointed out her feeding tube, telling her,
” Oh they feed me alright! At night time. Just like a baby!”
Kat then giggled, both to establish camaraderie, and at the same time, to dismiss Sophia’s concern.
” The tube feeding is helping me because I’m never hungry. After my bowel surgery I lost a lot of weight. Besides, the tube doesn’t hurt! And most importantly, the formula I receive provides me with necessary nutrients which gives me lots of energy! ” Kat smiled as she told Sophia.
Sophia just looked at Kat, and then, in a very surprising move, pulled Kat in and gave her a hug! Kat hugged her back and felt a flutter in her chest. Finally. A roommate with whom she could connect. She thought of how lonely she’d been the past couple of months. With no one to talk to but the nurses (with whom she was quite friendly), Kat would read late into the night, to pass the time. Yet the need for human connection was strong. She hoped she would have a friend in this roommate. And she did.
When Kat would fantasize about her perfect roomate (which she often did, due to her many, interesting roommates…) she pictured a young female, with whom she’d have a lot in common. In that way their hospital stay would be more like a spa stay as opposed to a hospitalization. Kat would’ve never imagined her dream roommate would turn out to be a feisty 80 year old woman! Sophia reminded Kat of the character Sophia Petrillo from the Golden Girls due to her personality. Feisty and tough, yet at heart, a sweet lady.
Sophia was one of the most difficult patients on the skilled nursing facility ward. A spitfire. The nurses and doctors always had a hard time with her because she didn’t trust them. She would yell at them and refuse their help. Yet for some reason, she took to Kat. She trusted her. That was the thing about Sophia . You had to gain her trust. Once you had it, Sophia would open up. It was something Kat instinctively knew. It was to the point that Kat was THE only person she talked to. Sure, Sophia yelled at the nurses and nurses aides (oh yes, she did! She could be grumpy! Not the person whose bad side you Ever wanted to get on. Ever! ) to Kat however, she was sweet as sugar! Kat was her little darling. The nurses would ask Kat how she did it! Kat didn’t know. Maybe because she took the time to get to know Sophia . Kat gave Sophia undivided attention. Respect. Affection. Sophia knew that Kat’s intentions were good. And Sophia blossomed with Kat. They would stay up all nite talking. Who would’ve thought how much Kat would have in common with an 80 year old. But she did!
* Kat’s note:
Thinking about this topic has me in tears. Because of the memory I’ve chosen to revisit. *begins crying again* I know I have to write this in the third person, and I will, but this is something I’m writing to help prepare myself. I may even choose to omit this part from my post. Anyway. The memory that came to mind is of a very special person whom I befriended whilst hospitalized. I feel so much guilt and shame that I haven’t been back to visit her. I can only imagine how hurt she must be feeling. The pain at feeling that I’ve forgotten her, that I don’t care.
This is a difficult memory to revist. I’ve been crying since I started writing and it’s been well over an hour now. I keep having to stop. I acknowledge that it’s part of my ptsd. To put up blocks to prevent me from visiting this wound. The severity of my pstd has not only prevented me from going back to the site of the trauma, the hospital, but has kept me from visiting my roommate. And I miss her and our relationship so much. It breaks my heart to think of the pain I caused her. By not visiting her because I just can’t. I don’t know if she is still at the skilled nursing facility. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of her. I miss her.
Here come the tears. *begins crying* I have a hole in my heart because I miss her. I miss the closeness and the time we had. We were roommates for a month and a half. We grew very close. This assignment, this memory, has been a hard one to revisit. I don’t know how well I did with my “third person story” but this is as much as I can type. Because I’ve been an emotional wreck all evening. Crying off and on. Having flashbacks.
Acknowledging that these wounds have not yet healed and are in fact bleeding. I’ve got a lot of work to do as far as my ptsd. I must find out what happened with Sophia. I need to reconnect with her. I thought that writing the letter to my 16 year old self would be hard but I don’t remember crying. And here I am unable to stop the tears from falling. I have a pain in my chest. It’s just awful. This is my anxiety and my ptsd. I had flashbacks. I didn’t try to repress the feelings. I allowed myself to cry. Nothing bad happened to me.
And even though it’s past midnight and I missed the deadline, I wrote. Despite everything. Most importantly is that I did it. With the help, support and encouragement from Jules. As someone who has ptsd, I must acknowledge and give myself credit for surviving all that trauma. For allowing myself to revisit it. I’m ok. Sure, I’m crying but I’m really ok. Baby steps. That’s all that matters. That is the healing process. One step at a time. I’ve come a long way, and I’ve still got a long way to go. But I’m determined to take those steps.
@hipsteralice
April Blogger in Residency
Alice in Crohnsland for
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